


GAZELLE: Vendetta

by webhead3019



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 19:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16646444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webhead3019/pseuds/webhead3019
Summary: A former foe of Kingsman resurfaces after being thought dead for over a year and there will be Hell to pay. Witness the fall of the clandestine secret service as she plots her revenge alongside a mysterious new mastermind. Gazelle is back and even more deadly than before now that she has nothing more to lose. Now for the first time, the roots of her relationship with her former employee and ward Valentine will also be revealed as she dives into her most personal journey yet. This is Gazelle unlike you’ve ever seen her... unbridled yet elegant all the same.





	1. PART ZERO: THE KICK BACK

Gazelle stared Eggsy down in a predator-like manner. Shocked she had missed her target for the killing swoop, Gazelle transitioned into a dazed sense of disbelief. With a smug half grin, Eggsy tilted his head slightly, courtesy of Double O Seven. All violence aside, had he been watching their grand showdown, Richie Valentine would flip over the real-life reference. After all, Valentine was quite the fanatic for spy films and Eggsy had grown into quite the agent.

Gazelle trailed the Kingsman agent’s curt nod in an unblinking gaze. Gazelle’s piercing, brown eyes broke focus upon noting the previously concealed knife blade sticking frontal of Eggsy’s left loafer. Click. With a tap off the floorboard, Eggsy withdrew the blade back into his shoe. Gazelle gasped upon sighting where the poison had grazed her arm. How could such a new recruit best her in the field of combat.

Gazelle felt a wave of nausea come over her, as the poison did its work in her bloodstream. The incision darkened with rot and Gazelle fainted backwards onto the floor. Valentine shouted, “Gazelle! Gazelle!” It was too late. Gazelle could no longer help Richie in his mission to eradicate overpopulation. Gazelle’s light faded to black as she transitioned to a greater unknown of consciousness.

+

Gazelle’s life flashed before her eyes.

+

Gazelle looked up and took note of a familiar face, albeit the face had to have aged back by at least half a decade. A lot had happened since then. While it may be a memory, Gazelle was still flat on her back, but for a different injury altogether. Feeling overwhelmed, Gazelle asked her questions almost immediately, “Who the hell are you? Where am I?” The man adjusted his baseball cap and introduced himself with a distinct lisp, “Valentine... Richmond Valentine. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Oh, and feel free to call me Richie.”

The impassioned Valentine explained, “You’re in a secure ICU funded by me, THE soon-to-be-famous Richie Valentine that is. But really miss, you don’t have to thank me.” Gazelle looked at him confused, “Why are you doing this? What happened to me?” Valentine clasped Gazelle’s fumbling hands and stated regrettably, “I truly wish I arrived a moment sooner. Do take your time, but if you glance down, you’ll find you’re missing something at the knees.” Gazelle’s eyes peered away from Valentine and gasped. There were bandaged stumps where her legs should have been. Valentine resumed with an uncanny sense of reserve, “Please relax. There’s no call for alarm. I’ll be damned if I let the land mine take the rest of you.”

Valentine explained, “You’re curious, aren’t you? Why would I go outta my way to help you when you were inches from being worm food. This isn’t a very compassionate world after all, especially in the neglected state I found you in. I have an answer for that too. You’re a miracle survivor in every since of the word. Matching wounds and all, had the mothafucka who planted the bomb been on the receiving end instead, he’d be long dead before my crew even got to the scene. Now you’re a different case altogether. I’m just as curious as you at this point.”

With a renewed light in his eyes, Valentine approached, “This truly is shit beyond my reasoning. Let’s cut to the chase. I’m something of a visionary and as visionaries, we want nothing more than for our visions to come to life. You’re stronger than you know. I admire that and I see a vision in you now, no matter how helpless you think you are at the moment.” Gazelle remarked shakily, “I’m grateful... I am really.” Gazelle’s voice cracked, “Not trying to beat a dead horse or anything. I just don’t think it’s feasible I can come back from something like this? Regardless what you think of me, I’m not superhuman.”

Valentine bore a smug display that he wasn’t going to be so easily dissuaded. In an effort to brush away her apprehension Valentine followed through, “I suppose you’re not, but I can show you why you’re so much more.” Still not truly confiding in what Valentine had to say, Gazelle raised her voice, “I don’t mean to hurt you after all you’ve done. You’re just asking too fucking much of me. Without legs, how can I ever hope to repay such a debt, Mr. Valentine?” Valentine changed his tone ever so slightly to be more assertive, “Oh. With the stock money I’ve compiled overseas alone, you’ll be able to do far more than that.”

“I don’t reckon you’d mind, but the operation to get you up and running again isn’t exactly by the books, per se. To date, it’s killed everyone that I know of, but you don’t really have a whole lot of other options at this point. Normally I’m a bit queasy around this sort of shit, but for me there’s no turning back. You’re already something of a comic book I’d worship. So for you, I’ll make an exception. You have a choice. You can be a part of something bigger than all of us. All I ask is that you return the favor.”

“I’ll crown you queen of the new world. I’ll admit, I did some snooping into your background, Gazelle. You were raised in an Libyan slum ravaged by angry militants and you’ve seen some shit even I don’t wanna know. Deep down I know your gut is telling you this is the right thing to do. Today can be the day both of us wins.” Gazelle grabbed hold of Valentine’s hand and her cheeks puffed up, “I don’t need your sympathy or your dedication. From here on out, I owe my life to you and whatever that means.”

Teary-eyed and with a smile of accomplishment, Valentine concluded, “Like all great visionaries, we will change the world for the better. How I achieve this motive will be just as unorthodox as your procedure. That vision starts with you, my dear, so you have my word. We’re gonna get the mothafuckas responsible for your unfortunate little accident. And with your perseverance, I’ll get you better in no time. I have a good feeling about you.”

+

Gazelle felt herself fade out visually, but just enough time was spared for Valentine to say, “Gazelle, you my friend, are my mothafuckin’ blue chip investment.”

+

Gazelle woke up on a table not unlike the one from the flashback. Richmond Valentine’s face was still there. Gazelle asked, “Valentine. Are we...” The man responded, “You’re not dead but I’m afraid the Valentine you know is, my dear. You never had the pleasure of meeting me, but I’m Jules Valentine, Richmond’s twin brother. He left me in charge should he ever fail in his mission. You’ve been down this route before, but it’s like he said. Valentine saw something in you that nobody else did.”

An all too familiar feeling of heartbreak came over Gazelle for the first time in awhile. Gazelle teared up, “How? My arm. It’s not really here. Is it?” Jules solemnly stated, “Correct. Due to the seriousness of Eggsy’s incision, you’re a triple amputee now. Eggsy is the little runt bastard who poisoned you and sent my brother, your ex-employer to the hereafter.”

Taken aback by Gazelle’s breaking of character, Jules held onto her hand, “This is cruel of me. It’s only right for you to know. If there was even the slimmest of fighting chances, Richie would want me to save you. Had I arrived a minute sooner, I would have saved the two of you. The damage had already been done and I barely got you out in time. It was too late for my brother, but it wasn’t for you. The plan may seem compromised, but the dream lives on.”

Jules explained, “You still retain most of your motor skills but it’s going to take some time. This isn’t your first time waking up. You’ve been in and out of an amnesiac coma for almost a year, but your vitals are finally showing significant signs of improvement. We estimate if you do go under again, it’ll be sometime within the next 8 weeks, but you’re already on the way to a speedy recovery, Gazelle. In the allotted time, I managed to make haste with the funds necessitated to provide you your phantom limb. As you noticed, your right shoulder has been fitted with an opposable, albeit stronger prosthetic. Significantly stronger you will find.”

Gazelle squeezed her hand into a tight fist. You have to be hooked to a coagulator for at least one more month. This way, we can successfully draw the last of the crafty motherfucker’s poison from your bloodstream.” Jules concluded, “Thanks to the advanced military surgeons my men secured, your physical attributes and health should be all healed up by the year’s end. A leak regarding the now compromised Kingsman confirm that the next time we strike, we will be at a newly primed peak in terms of both defense and offense.

3 months ago, there was another full-scale attack launched on the world’s gen pop. Of course, the Kingsman were called to action once more, but not before a crucial blow was dealt to the Kingsman’s infrastructure. Now critical intelligence is flocking from all corners of the world like flies on food. The thin veil that has hidden the world of spies will be lifted and there will be nowhere left to run. Kingsman merely resides in a borrowed- - stolen kingdom. We will retake the throne and secure our reign. The next time Kingsman tries to extinguish our fire will be the last. On that day, we will take out Kingsman once and for all, along with Eggsy and all he holds dear.”

+

| 9 MONTHS LATER |

+

A Secret Serviceman faced one of the hedges and unzipped his pants. Another guard took a puff from a cigarette and sighed, “You’re bloody sick, you know. The cost of refunding damages to the Queen’s garden is worth more than that wife of yours. You’re lucky only the princess is home today, because if the king were here, he’d feed that prick to the bloody dogs.” The Secret Serviceman finished urinating and wagged himself dry. The Secret Serviceman turned around and flipped him off. The Serviceman put out the tip of his cigarette in the fountain and flicked it at the other.

With that, Gazelle slid into view from within the garden. She front-flipped twice and broke into a high jump somersault, flying over the four-foot hedge. She landed in between the two men and took guard pose with her arms. Finally back in action, Gazelle smiled widely, “Hey.” Before the man could zip back his pants, he whipped out his sidearm. Gazelle spun her leg around, slicing the man’s pistol in two at the grip, also detaching his thumb and trigger finger in the process. The man yelled, “Bloody do something, goddammit! For Christ’s sake, that was my fucking wank hand.”

The other guard drew his pistol, but not before Gazelle dropped down low into the splits. Gazelle break danced her legs into a 360 degree spin. The spinning motion chopped the guard’s legs down to stumps and he dropped his gun from the pressure. Gazelle balanced her arm on the top of his head and flipped back to her feet. Gazelle continued to hold the guard’s head in place, before swinging her leg back around like a golf club at a tee. The guard’s head popped off like a champagne cork and spaghetti western effects spurted out like a miniature volcano.

Gazelle turned to the man still clutching his mutilated hand. Gazelle motioned for him to run, lest she detach any other extremities. The man didn’t hesitate and ran straight for the embassy to warn the others. Gazelle smirked and said to herself, “Good lad.” Gazelle gave the man a head-start before breaking into a sprint herself. Gazelle caught up in no time and used the brunt side of her leg to kick him through the glass door.

Gazelle didn’t bother to unlock the door through the now breached entryway. Gazelle stepped through the entryway smartly yet gracefully. Gazelle casually stepped over the fallen guard. Upon entrance, 4 more guards lined up on her like a death penalty firing squad. This can’t be all of them. Obviously none of them have encountered anyone quite like Gazelle before. Clearly none of them had access to her classified files either.

Gazelle warned the guards, “You lot seem like honorable men. It’d be a shame for you to die in any less of a manner. I suggest you reconsider your numbers or pack it up. If not, I’ll go through every last one of you before you can even blink.” The men thumbed at their holster straps, just waiting for the cue to pump her full of lead. If they were feeling lucky, they wouldn’t wait for that cue. Gazelle rolled her eyes and took stance.

+

| 10 Seconds Later |

+

A Secret Serviceman busted through the doorway and shut it promptly. The sounds of slashing and bodies dropping one after the other can be heard from the other side. The Secret Serviceman pressed his back to it in the hopes that the door wouldn’t break down. The guard exclaimed, “Bloody Hell, it’s a massacre out there! Simon? Ansel? All bloody dead— fucking dead I tell ya! We were five guards strong and we still couldn’t take one beast. As we speak, the royal guard is getting skewered like bloody pigs!”

The panicking guard resumed, “You‘re in charge now, so might I suggest a plan for getting the fuck out of here? Bloody Hell, Tilde! You’re getting high now of all times? If this storm of shit isn’t already a wee fucking tad above my pay-grade, relieve me of my duties or so help me God! I will empty my fucking skull on your royal tapestry my bloody self!” What irony this statement held when a familiar blade leg burrowed its way inside. The blade punched through the wooden door, through the back of his skull, and out the thick of the man’s forehead.

The blade suctioned back through the split in the door, cutting a red threadlike line around the man’s forehead just below the scalp. The man dropped to his knees and fainted face-forward. A brief bout of blood sprinkled across the tapestry in comic fashion. Gazelle punched her leg through the door once more, this time slashing down the middle. With a sideways kick, Gazelle brought the door down hard, crushing the man underneath. If he wasn’t already lobotomized, the man was brain-dead now. Princess Tilde lifted the window to throw out her cocaine stash.

Tilde didn’t even try to make a dive for it. Neither did her pug, although that was easy when you’re positioned at the farthest opposite wall of a luxury space. The pug held his ground and pawed the ground obnoxiously. Gazelle pushed through the door to accompany Princess Tilde on her day of reckoning. Gazelle grinned sinisterly, “Greetings, Princess. Remember me?” Princess Tilde cackled nervously, “Oh... Crap, you’re alive.”

Gazelle paced around her in a circle, in a predatory manner not unlike a wildcat closing in. Princess Tilde kept retreating to the corner, but her time for an escape was slipping fast. Gazelle kept her grin and replied, “Oh crap is right. And I’ve never felt better.” Gazelle outstretched her arms in an intimidating stance and exclaimed, “Always glad to note that trademark compassion of yours, your highness. I’m sure you’d have made a great queen, if not for your impeccable choice in friends.”

In an attempt to delay her assailant, Princess Tilde asked, “What was your name again? Don’t know if I ever caught it. You don’t feel like planting a microchip in my noggin again, do you?” Gazelle brightened up, “Trying to make the best of small talk, I see. Unfortunately I’m not nearly as smooth a speaker as our dear departed. As for my fallback plan, I was thinking something a little sharper, but I’m open to new ideas. A collaborative if you will, your highness.”

Gazelle pursed her lip hungrily, “You didn’t think I would abandon Valentine’s dream so easily, did you? You should have placed your faith where it counted, but I’ll give you one last chance. I may be the backbone to Valentine’s dream, but I’m not ruthless in the sense I can’t compromise.” Tilde shouted, “You’ll never get away with this. Eggsy beat you once and he can do it again.” In a fit of rage, Tilde chucked a chair at Gazelle. Gazelle casually pivoted her hips and side-kicked, cutting the chair in two.

Purely without phase, Gazelle resumed pace as did she with her rant. Gazelle added, “A cheap move no doubt. Just like your little lover boy, but it was a poor choice for either of you to make things personal. I told you that you’d make a good queen. I didn’t say where.” Gazelle motioned with her blade legs and met Princess Tilde’s eyes with a sense of finality, “There can only be one here. So as queen of the new world, I’ve decided you can find your claim in the hereafter.”

Princess Tilde shouted, “Fuck me sideways!” Gazelle disregarded, “Nah. How about I fuck you up instead?” Princess Tilde screamed horribly, “EGGSY!!” Gazelle thrust her leg upward and split Tilde’s throat apart. Princess Tilde clutched the porous opening and gasped. Lurid blood dumped out vigorously and she flopped down dead as a doornail. Gazelle remarked, “It was a good run, your highness, but you were too coked up to see the bigger picture.”

Gazelle flicked her blade leg dry and concluded, “We’re making our big move now and this time, you won’t interfere. Stay faithful long enough to greet Eggsy for me, because I’ll send him down to you soon enough.” One of Valentine’s men chucked a Molotov through the window. Gazelle hollered from inside, “Was that really necessary?” Jules called back from inside the limo, “We were never here, Gazelle! At least not yet. If we want to hit those fuckwits hard, we can’t let our pride cloud our judgment.

“Now hop on over here before the motherfuckin’ paparazzi starts piling up our ass!” Gazelle shouted back, “Give me a sec. There’s a dog in here!” Jules groaned, “Mothafucka, you have got to be kiddin’ me!” Gazelle swooped the tensed up, growling pug in her arms. She dived out the window and broke into an aerial somersault, landing in a half crouch a story below. Still got the old moves.

Jules asked, “Should we plug the pug?” Bewildered, Gazelle shouted back, “I don’t kill house pets.” Gazelle set down the still growling pug down as Jules motioned back, “Suit yourself.” Gazelle hesitated, “Wait a minute, are you?” Disgusted that she would even ask such a thing, Jules cried out, “Of course not, fuck! What sort of monster do you take me for?” Gazelle pushes Jules to the side and swings herself into the seat adjacent to him.

The henchman who threw the Molotov shut the door behind her. The chauffeur sped off full throttle before the henchman could shut his own door. Jules held onto the handlebar and Gazelle remarked, “You sound just like him, you know.” More than a little tense, Jules replied, “Best we lay low for now. At least give time for the bastards’ mourning period to brush over. I like to think you’re still honorable in that way, as much of a thorn in our hip Tilde may have been. Nevertheless you’re the queen, so where do we head to next?”

Gazelle replied “I know just the place. It’s a separate, less complex matter of revenge, a promise me and Richie made a lifetime ago. Before he died, Richmond intended to tie off an important loose end with me. Unfortunately before it could come to light, I had to wait until I was physically fit again.” Gazelle showcased her blade legs and concluded, “It was a personal promise to me, but it meant something to him all the same. They destroyed my family and tore off my legs. It’s time to rip the old band-aid off once and for all. It’s bit of a trek from here, but don’t get it twisted. We’re gonna collect some fuckin’ heads tonight.”

+

GAZELLE VENDETTA

(or Kingsman: The Awaited Vendetta)


	2. PART ONE: BACK TO THE ROOTS

|7 YEARS AGO|

+

Richmond Valentine fitted Gazelle with her second stump leg. Valentine asked, “Gazelle, I don’t mean to rattle your cage at all, but I have to know. You haven’t said anything of the blast in the 5 months we’ve gotten acquainted with one another. Why is that? What do you remember? Please, just give me anything to work on. You know you can trust me, right?” Gazelle pressed her hands against her temples and snapped, “That’s just it! I don’t remember anything! It all happened so quickly. Even everything that happened before the blast is such a fuzz.” Valentine stuttered suspiciously, “Oh, well... I’m sorry.” Gazelle asked, “Mr. Valentine, what do you know? Just tell me goddammit! Do you trust me?”

Reluctantly and with feeble hands, Valentine passed her a folder full of files he had previously kept tucked in his sports jacket and looked away. Richie was never one for grotesque imagery. In the off-chance that he barfed, Valentine held his cheeks shut and pulled a trash bin next to the couch he and Gazelle was sitting on. Gazelle opened up the folder and held her right hand close to her mouth in a sudden gasp. Valentine kept his eyes pointed attentively at the ceiling, “I’m assuming that’s your uncle, sprayed guts and all. Guts. What a nasty sounding word. Your sister’s alive and well, not well at all.”

Valentine droned on, “She didn’t lose a limb or nothin’, but she got hit pretty bad too. After the postpartum abyss she fell into, I couldn’t imagine even a visit from long lost family could cheer her any. She wasn’t expecting, thank god for that. She was expecting to life a pretty full life nevertheless. The debris rendered the poor girl infertile. Those are just the members I could piece together and truth be told, I don’t wanna know any fuckin’ more than that. God, I hate violence! I fuckin’ hate it, but this shit makes me angry in all the wrong ways.”

“I may talk quite a fuckin’ bit about fuckin’ number reduction, but there’s no reasoning behind shit like this. I mean, come on! How savage a cunt must one be to turn a peacekeeping village into a mothafuckin’ minefield? Doesn’t make the least bit of fuckin’ sense if you ask me. I say it’s just violence for the sake of fuckin’ violence. It makes me sick to my stomach. If ever meet the sonuvabitch who pulled that shit on you, I’d cap the sorry nigga in the dome and I’d look that nigga in the eye as I did so. I don’t give a shit how much I puke afterwards.”

Gazelle address him sternly, “Valentine, enough. I grew up in a world where I had to resort to great lengths of violence in order to survive, so much so where killing to me became as easy as knife on bread. That being said, I don’t care how far you think you’ve come, Rich. You’d never forgive yourself once you’ve taken your first life. That’s a weight I can never let you carry after everything you’ve done for me. Besides they’re my vermin to kill, not yours. You don’t owe me jack squat, and if it’s any consolation, I owe you the world.”

Gazelle reeled herself close to Valentine and admitted, “You’ve opened my eyes. In these 5 short months, you’ve opened me up in ways you can ever know. I want to be a piece in your plan, a meaningful one. I think I’ve become stricken, Richmond. I want to see your dream through no matter what.” Richmond stuttered, “Y-You really mean it?” Gazelle responded doubtlessly, “Every word. Unbeknownst to you, I’ve been training my body in ways I never thought possible in the shape that it was. I’m fully committed to your dream. Last night I had a dream of my own to help me in achieving the latter.” Valentine asked, “L-Like what?” Gazelle hoisted up her recently fashioned peg leg. Gazelle’s cheeks spread into a playful grin, “With me by your side, you don’t need to get blood on your hands. Body modifications... Something out of a comic book.”

+

Unfortunately that was a promise Gazelle couldn’t keep, as Richmond would mortally wound Kingsman operative Harry Hart after shooting him through the eye shortly before his own demise.

+

| Present Day Libya |

[ [ [ . . . TO BE EXPANDED . . . ] ] ]


End file.
